


i'll be yours to keep

by brahe



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Needs to Sleep, Anakin Skywalker Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker Needs to Sleep, Boys In Love, Cooking, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Shenanigans, Let Anakin Feel Only Love 2kforever, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Making Out, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Loves Anakin Skywalker, October Prompt Challenge, Phone Calls & Telephones, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Rain, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Space Skype, Space Waffles, Sparring, That's Not How The Force Works, actual parents anakin and obi wan, desert child anakin, hand holding, it's big soft™, obi-wan/anakin/happiness ot3, obi-wan/happiness AND anakin/happiness, sun metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 16,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26860261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: where this is Kenobi, you will always find Skywalker not far behindWhen he looks back to Obi-Wan's face, sleepy grey eyes blink slowly at him. Anakin feels himself smile with the simple joy of being the first thing Obi-Wan sees, with a swell of overwhelming love that warms him inside out.twenty-three finished ficlets for thirty-one soft prompts in an established relationship au where anakin doesn't fall
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 80
Kudos: 266





	1. morning

**Author's Note:**

> me, back on my big soft™ bs:
> 
> i made myself a list of soft prompts for october to write domestic obikin for bc i miss my boys and s7 hurt me
> 
> prompts are:  
> hands | bed | rain | morning | warm | kiss | hug | cold | laugh | tea | breathe | care | sunlight | blanket | stay | dance | comfort | cuddle | light | cooking | gift | relax | ours | sharing clothes | night | confession | chores | outsider pov | shower | dependent | family
> 
> im not doing this in any kind of order lol. feel free to use if you want!! tell me if you do so i can check it out ☺️ 
> 
> title from only love by ben howard

Anakin wakes quickly, a lifelong habit he's never had the opportunity to break, his body tense and awareness sharpening in a blink. 

He blinks again, recognizing the Temple and the Coruscanti sunrise, remembering their leave assignment, and he sighs deeply as he relaxes his muscles, sinking back into the bed. He won't be able to fall back to sleep – has never been able to – but he's always enjoyed laying like this, anyway, awake to appreciate the time to laze with no responsibilities, to watch the slow sunrise and Obi-Wan's deep breathing. 

Anakin's hand rises and falls with Obi-Wan's breaths where it rests on his waist, and he studies the motion for a while. The sun lights a little line of white fire along the edges of his mech hand as it streams through the windows; he wiggles his fingers a bit to watch the line come and go, the whirring of his joints like a whisper in the quiet of their room. 

When he looks back to Obi-Wan's face, sleepy grey eyes blink slowly at him. Anakin feels himself smile with the simple joy of being the first thing Obi-Wan sees, with a swell of overwhelming love that warms him inside out. 

"Good morning," he says softly, because it is, and trails his hand up Obi-Wan's side to rest it on the side of his neck. 

Obi-Wan offers him a faint smile and a long blink. "Good morning, dear heart," he says, wonderfully rough and sleepy. He shifts his head slightly to catch Anakin's thumb, kissing the pad of it. "Have you been awake long?" 

"No," Anakin says, shaking his head a little, his hair ruffling against the pillowcase. He is mesmerized by Obi-Wan in the morning, holds a special, soft love for this just-woken version of him, and he can tell he's still smiling. "No, not long."

Anakin feels as Obi-Wan wakes up, feels under his hand the way his breathing becomes less deep, the way his pulse speeds up just a little, feels the way his presence in the Force grows steadily brighter and warmer, like a tiny sun Anakin gets to hold on to. 

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, rolls onto his back, and stretches his legs out on the bed, steps one, two, and three of his five-step getting-out-of-bed process. Anakin shifts, rolling over further to half lay on Obi-Wan's shoulder and side, holding him to the bed and effectively preventing steps four and five. 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan laughs, a little breathless and exasperated, and he turns his head to catch Anakin's lips in a gentle kiss.  _ Okay, just preventing step five, then, _ Anakin thinks. 

"You can stay in bed, you know," Anakin reminds him. "The galaxy won't come crashing down if Obi-Wan Kenobi spends an hour lounging in bed in the morning." He shifts his arm so it lays over Obi-Wan's waist and noses at the juncture of his shoulder and his neck. "The Temple won't go anywhere," he continues, like he does every time Obi-Wan makes to leave bed. "You'll still be a wonderful Jedi, I promise." 

"Oh, well," Obi-Wan says with a gentle chuckle, "if you promise." 

"Yeah I promise," Anakin agrees. He settles heavier on Obi-Wan's side and rubs little circles into the skin of his hip where his sleep shirt has ridden up. "Really, though," he adds after a moment. "There's nothing we have to do today. Nothing important, anyway." 

Obi-Wan snorts softly, no doubt thinking of the Council debriefing they have later this evening. But Anakin can feel his muscles relaxing, his body easing heavier into the mattress. 

"Just let me have this," he says, a final plea, and maybe it's a little extortionist, but it always works. 

Obi-Wan shifts onto his side, pressing his body along Anakin's. 

"If I must," he sighs, but he's smiling, a soft, affectionate thing that makes Anakin's insides go liquid. He leans the rest of the way into Anakin's space to rest his head on Anakin's chest. "You're making breakfast, though," he adds, like Anakin doesn't make breakfast usually, anyway, and Anakin laughs. He watches the way the sun, higher and brighter now, outlines the messy edges of Obi-Wan's hair and turns it into gold, highlights the darker specs of deep blue in his eyes. 

"Of course, dear," he agrees, and tucks Obi-Wan closer to him, resting his chin over his head and watches with lazy attention as the sun continues to climb into the sky. 


	2. comfort

It must be more than halfway into the night cycle, Anakin thinks, and he's still staring off into space like he was when they came to bed hours ago. He huffs in frustration and rolls onto his back, now staring up at the ceiling. He's too hot, but too cold without the blankets, and he's so tired, his body exhausted and his emotions strung out; but the Force is so loud, tonight, as are his own thoughts, thoughts of nothing important that stick anyway, catching in his mind like fish in a net, wiggling and trapped. He huffs again. 

"Trouble sleeping?" murmurs Obi-Wan, a soft whisper in the dark stillness of their room. Anakin hadn't even realized he was awake, so loud is everything in his head. 

"Yeah," Anakin says, voice fuller than Obi-Wan's had been. "Everything's just so–much. Loud." 

Obi-Wan hums, and Anakin listens to the sheets ruffle, feels the mattress shift beneath them, and then Obi-Wan's face appears in the corner of his eye, shadowed and fuzzy in the dimness. 

Anakin rolls his head to the side and sees that Obi-Wan has propped himself up on his elbow, peering at Anakin.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asks, and Anakin lets his eyes close for a moment as he shakes his head. 

"No," he says, regretful. "Don't think so." 

Obi-Wan hums again and lowers his head back onto his pillow. "Let me see," he whispers, and his fingers find Anakin's face, trace along his hairline, his cheek, his jaw. "Please." 

Anakin's still looking at him, flicking his gaze between Obi-Wan's eyes. He debates saying no, but–but Obi-Wan hasn't ever judged him for anything, especially not this, and he ran out of things to hide a long time ago. 

"Okay," he agrees eventually. He shifts so he's laying on his side. "Tell me if it's too much," he says, and then drops his shields, all of them, only to be flooded instantly with Obi-Wan, with the warmth, depth, and steadiness Anakin's always associated with his signature. There's so much of him so suddenly that he's all Anakin can feel, clogging up all of his senses in the best way, both numbing and calming at once. 

"Oh, my darling," Obi-Wan murmurs, though Anakin barely hears it, so caught up in the relief of an empty mind. "Better?" he asks, and it takes Anakin a moment to respond. 

"So much," he says. He reaches up to catch Obi-Wan's hand still on his face, holds it still as he presses a light kiss to his palm. "Thank you." 

"You need only ever ask," Obi-Wan reminds him, a sweet concern flowing into Anakin's awareness. "Do not suffer alone, my dearest." 

Anakin gives him a wan smile, lets Obi-Wan's hand go so he can reach his to Obi-Wan's cheek, thumbing at the edge of his beard as he closes the small space between them in a gentle kiss. Obi-Wan's mouth is warm and yielding under his own, responding to Anakin's motions in turn, keeping them slow, relaxed. 

"I was keeping you awake, wasn't I?" Anakin realizes, murmured into the little space between them. 

Obi-Wan exhales softly and shifts his hand to hold the back of Anakin's head, his fingers threading through his hair as he pulls Anakin towards him, until Anakin's forehead lands just under his neck. 

"Maybe," he says, "but it doesn't matter if you were or not. I want to help you." 

Anakin's chest feels tight, and he closes his eyes against the intensity of it. He feels  _ safe _ , quiet and comforted in the way only Obi-Wan seems to manage. Obi-Wan's hand is gently stroking the back of his head, his other resting heavy and grounding at the dip in his side, and he exhales, tucking himself further into Obi-Wan's chest. 

"Sleep, dearest," Obi-Wan tells him, pressing his lips to Anakin's forehead and leaving them there. Anakin's signature is still full of Obi-Wan's calming warmth, and he welcomes the gentle suggestion as it comes through his mind, lets it pull him into sleep with a gentle sigh. 


	3. hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i want anakin and obi wan sitting together and anakin's just playing with obi wan's hand and not paying attention to anything else
> 
> my brain: hello let's introduce the primordial force™
> 
> anyway. idk what this is & i made up everything. enjoy

Anakin's been on high alert since they landed here, something about the planet's energy in the Force setting his teeth on edge, a constant alarm in the back of his mind. 

Obi-Wan had easily sensed his agitation, asked him what was wrong before they left the ship. 

"I don't know," Anakin had told him, frown creasing his forehead. "You can't feel that?" 

Obi-Wan shook his head, but a frown began to curl at his own lips. "Feel what, Anakin?" 

"It's not–dangerous," Anakin said, a quick reassurance. "At least, I don't think so. The Force is just…off, here. Strange." 

Obi-Wan had hummed to himself, stroking his hand over his beard. 

"We'll be cautious, then," he had said. "Tell me if anything changes." 

Nothing had changed, really, not enough to tell Obi-Wan about. The strangeness just comes in waves, ebbing and flowing and unsettling like an ocean. 

Anakin keeps quiet more than usual, follows behind Obi-Wan and lets him handle the discussions, mostly tuning them out. 

Their hosts live in elaborate cities built into the mountains that cover their planet, and they lead Obi-Wan and Anakin deeper into the rock, into a grand room as large as a star destroyer, with soaring ceilings and hundreds of beings seated at lengthy tables and chatting in clusters. 

Anakin stops just short of the entrance, reaching for Obi-Wan before he even realizes, curling his hand around Obi-Wan's arm and tugging him back. 

"It's worse, Master," he says quietly, jumping his gaze around the room. The Force, normally as familiar to him as Obi-Wan's voice, is instead strange and unusual, formed into something Anakin hardly recognizes at all.

Obi-Wan's arm is suddenly pressing against Anakin's, grounding him. "Dangerous?" he asks in a murmur, watching Anakin closely. 

He shakes his head. "I don't–don't think so," he says, and finally turns to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. "Just more intense."

Obi-Wan nods slightly, and he finds Anakin's hand with his own, squeezing tightly for a brief moment. "I'll mention it to our hosts," he says. "Will you be alright?" 

"Yeah," Anakin murmurs. He feels Obi-Wan's signature grow stronger, pressing heavier against his mind, and welcomes it, sighing at the feel of something so well-known. "Thanks," he says and returns Obi-Wan's soft smile before following him further into the room. 

They've been sitting near an end of one of the long tables for some time now–it's difficult for Anakin to tell the passage of time without the sun. He rubs his hands back and forth over his knees repeatedly, his left leg shaking up and down slightly, and continuously sweeps his gaze around the room, searching for an answer to the strangeness he's sensing. 

He startles when Obi-Wan's hand settles over his, suddenly, stilling his movements. Anakin looks at it, then at Obi-Wan, who turns slightly to him, leaning into his space. 

"Easy, dearest," he murmurs, barely a whisper, his nose in Anakin's hair. "Relax." 

Anakin looks around the room again, so full of beings, of noise, of whispers and waves in the Force, and then turns back to Obi-Wan's hand. He flips his own hand over, catching Obi-Wan's and bringing it further into his lap, into the hold of both of his hands. 

Obi-Wan's skin is pale, even more so against Anakin's tanned skin and dark glove. Anakin smoothes his thumb over Obi-Wan's fingers, flattening out their slight curl, and with his other hand he follows the lines on Obi-Wan's palm, lightly tracing the curves and ridges. 

He loses track of time, fidgeting with Obi-Wan's hand, and doesn't realize he had lost the unsettling pressure of the Force here until it comes back to him, Obi-Wan's hand suddenly curling up and catching Anakin's fingers, jolting him back into awareness of the room. 

_ Listen _ , Obi-Wan presses against his mind, as their host laughs. 

"Oh, yes," they say, gesturing to the room around them. "I often forget that it is so different here." They pause to drink, then lean a little forward onto the table. "It is the mountains, you see. They are old, much older than our species, or even the Jedi, and they are watchful. Their presence in the Force is ancient and very unlike the presence of things that have a beginning and end, although it is very faint. I am surprised your companion noticed it so strongly."

"Anakin has always had a greater awareness of the Force than most beings I've encountered," Anakin hears Obi-Wan say, but he quickly loses focus of the conversation, turning his attention instead to the Force. Now that he knows the strangeness is coming from the mountains, it's easy to find and follow. He opens his mind further to it, and all at once he  _ feels _ the mountains, feels their vastness, their strength, their eternal age. The  _ off  _ sensation is replaced by understanding that isn't entirely his own, and he sees in flashes the beginnings of this planet, the rise and fall of species after species, the fleeting comings and goings of ephemeral lives in the eyes of these ageless rocks. Behind it all is a steadfast surety, the likes of which Anakin has only felt from one other source before, though he's lost his sense of self too much to place it. 

It's overwhelming enough to force a gasp from his throat, and he feels as if he's teetering on the edge of a cliff over an endless chasm, held from falling only by a rope wrapped around his hand. 

There's a tugging on the rope, suddenly, insistent, pulling him back, back, back away from the edge, and he comes rushing back into his body to feel the warm weight of Obi-Wan's hand around his own, to see Obi-Wan watching him with a careful but strong concern. 

"My dear, are you alright?" he asks, attention heavy on Anakin, who shakes his head as if clearing it. 

"I–" he starts, pausing as he looks from Obi-Wan to their hands, still twisted together, and back again. "Yeah," he says, threading his fingers between Obi-Wan's. "Yeah, I'm alright."


	4. bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this started as some dumb goofy thing and then got soft and emotional bc i switched songs i was listening to lmao oops
> 
> re setting they're on some planet on a mission or smthn idk

"Holy Force," Anakin says, a little reverent and mostly to himself, when they find the doorway to the bedroom. "You see this, too?" 

Obi-Wan nods. "I see it," he confirms. 

"How is this real," Anakin murmurs in shock, stepping forward slowly, as if afraid moving too fast will land them back into reality. "Who even needs a bed this big." 

The bed is _huge_ , taking up the majority of the space in the bedroom, which is itself huge. Anakin figures at least ten people could comfortably sleep on it, maybe more. 

He stops next to the closest edge of it, and turns to Obi-Wan with wide eyes. 

"Obi-Wan," he says, drawing Obi-Wan's gaze. He doesn't have anything else to say, really, just wants to triple check that Obi-Wan is witnessing this with him. 

"Yeah," Obi-Wan says, an agreement, maybe. Anakin looks back at the bed, follows the rays of sun that streak across it to the grand, open arches in the far wall, displaying a view of the city's great pink lake and the blue trees that cover the mountains beyond it. 

"This is _ridiculous_ ," he laughs, halfway hysteric. He realizes something, then, and turns back to Obi-Wan, with even wider eyes. 

"Obi-Wan," he says, "there's another bedroom." 

"What?" Obi-Wan turns to him, then processes Anakin's statement. "This is for one person," he says, sort of a question, and Anakin laughs again, a little manic. 

"This is for _one person_ ," he repeats. " _One_!" 

He stares at the expanse of white sheets before him until his impulses get the better of him, and he jumps onto the bed, landing face-first not even halfway across the mattress, sinking just a little into it. The sheets smell like lavender and sweet basil, and they're probably the softest thing Anakin has ever felt.

"What the kriff," he wonders, baffled, the words muffled into the sheets, taking a moment to process it before he rolls himself over, further towards the center. 

He looks up at the ceiling, decorated in pinks and golds, and a laugh bubbles up out of him before he even realizes it. 

"Obi-Wan," he calls, and lifts his head up enough from the bed to find Obi-Wan wandering slowly around the room. "Obi-Wan, this is ridiculous," he announces, and flops back down into the sheets. "Absolutely, completely ridiculous." He laughs again. 

"Completely," Obi-Wan agrees, a little distracted. 

It's silent for a moment, and then Anakin pops his head up again. "Well?" he asks, waiting until Obi-Wan looks at him. "Are you coming up here or what?" 

He watches Obi-Wan debate with himself for a moment, two, and then he's shrugging out of his robe, stepping out of the puddle it makes on the floor. 

"Hardly seems fair to let you have all the fun," he says, and Anakin grins at him. 

"Yeah, exactly," Anakin agrees. He doesn't even feel it when Obi-Wan's knees dent the mattress, the foot of it too far from where Anakin has sprawled out sort-of in the center. 

Obi-Wan shuffles up the bed in one of the least-graceful movements Anakin's ever seen from him, and he isn't expecting it when Obi-Wan flops down, so close to Anakin that he lands half on top of him. 

Anakin's laugh is sudden and half punched out of him, and his arms wrap up around Obi-Wan without thought, settling in the dip of his back and holding them together. 

Everything is glowing, here–the late afternoon sun turns the gold wall inlays into shimmering liquids; Obi-Wan's smile easily outshines Tatoonie's double stars, so rare in its unadulterated joy; even the Force around them glitters as it shifts and flows, saturated with happiness from the both of them in the way it hardly ever is. Anakin, in this moment, feels at peace at the same time he feels like he's drowning. 

He slides one hand up Obi-Wan's back, around to rest his palm against Obi-Wan's cheek, pushing Obi-Wan's hair out of his face with his fingertips, tracing his features with his eyes. 

Obi-Wan's still smiling up at him, though it's something softer now, sweeter. "It's wonderful to see you so happy, my darling," he says, settling his head heavier on Anakin's sternum, like he hasn't just left Anakin choking on love. 

"Yeah," Anakin murmurs, lost for what else to say in the face of such feelings. He runs his hand into Obi-Wan's hair, makes a little cycle of jaw, cheek, hair, and back again. Everything else has faded away – the Jedi, the galaxy, the war – everything that weighs him down gone in an instant. He'd forgotten what it felt to be like this, to be this happy, this weightless; and he'd missed Obi-Wan's smile, missed _his_ happiness achingly. 

"Love you," Anakin says, soft, and watches the corners of Obi-Wan's eyes crinkle, lets himself be overwhelmed by the way Obi-Wan's lips curl and his eyes brighten. 

It's easy, to kiss him, barely even half a thought before their mouths are pressed together, bodies sinking further into the mattress. And if Obi-Wan's smile gets in the way a little, well–Anakin's always liked the taste of his happiness, anyway. 


	5. ours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is. so fucking soft. the biggest soft.
> 
> aka: "wait a minute, we've been co-parents the whole time!"

Anakin sends Ahsoka off to eat and shower, and jogs up to Obi-Wan's side at the entrance to the sparring room, a little winded but never happier. 

"So?" he says, shaking his hair out of the tie he'd pulled it back in. "She did great, right?" 

Obi-Wan smiles. "She did better than great," he agrees. Anakin falls into step beside him as they head down the hall towards their room. 

"She must be running extra practices for hersel," he continues. "Really, I think our padawan has made some impressive advancements in skill, and especially in confidence." 

Anakin practically glows at the praise for Ahsoka, some piece of his pride now forever tied to her and her successes, and he's about to respond when he catches up with the rest of Obi-Wan's words. 

"Oh," Anakin says, " _our_ padawan?" He tries desperately to keep the grin off his face, though he's certain he's failing. 

It isn't the first time Obi-Wan has referred to Ahsoka as such–as _theirs_ –and though it doesn't happen often, it always makes Anakin feel a swell of different kind of pride, something softer, deeper, sweeter. 

Obi-Wan's cheeks flush a pretty red Anakin doesn't get to see near often enough. "I–your padawan," he amends, " _the_ padawan. Ahsoka." 

He shifts his eyes around anywhere but Anakin, and really, Anakin has seen him off balance like this only once or twice before. Obi-Wan _never_ rambles–unless he's been caught with a feeling. 

Anakin's grin is stretched across the width of his face, now, boundless and refusing to be tamped down any longer. 

" _Really_ , Anakin," Obi-Wan huffs, blush disappearing into his beard, though Anakin's enjoyment dims at the embarrassment slowly seeping into their bond, oozing through the cracks in Obi-Wan's mental barriers. 

"Obi-Wan," Anakin says, a cousin of a sigh, reaching out to curl his hand around Obi-Wan's upper arm. "Obi-Wan, I didn't mean it like that." 

He ducks his head, searching until he meets Obi-Wan's eyes, then smiles gently. "Do you really think of her that way?" he asks, quietly, a little awed. "Think of _me_ that way?" 

Obi-Wan shakes his head, body sagging a little, though he doesn't hide from Anakin's gaze anymore. He shrugs one shoulder, the movement almost hidden under his oversized robe. 

"Of course I do," he says, as if it's obvious that Obi-Wan should consider them co-masters, obvious that they share the responsibilities enough to share her, too. "Of course I do," he repeats, quieter and more unsure this time. 

Anakin blinks at him, wondering how he never made the conscious realization that they _are_ co-masters, that they do share everything. 

"You should!" Anakin says, a quick plea, desperate to get rid of the uncertainty Obi-Wan's feeling about his place in their lives. He takes a breath, slowing himself down when Obi-Wan looks at him, halfway to startled. 

"You're right," Anakin tells him, resuming walking from where they'd stopped in the hallway. 

"I don't mean to overstep," Obi-Wan protests, like he isn't twined into every single part of Anakin's life, anyway. "I know it's–personal, and I…" 

Anakin bumps their shoulders together and holds Obi-Wan's eyes when he turns his head.

"No, I mean it," Anakin says. "She is our padawan."

It's the first time _he's_ said it, and there's something about the way it feels, sitting on his tongue and in his chest with a sort of weight and familiarity that feel _right_ on a level so deep as beyond his bones. 

He looks away, gaze lost somewhere between the floor and the middle distance, attention caught up in the notion that he and Obi-Wan are so twisted up together that they're sharing a padawan. Anakin doesn't think that's ever happened in the Order before. 

He smiles, coming back to himself, and lets his fingers find Obi-Wan's beneath the wide sleeves of their robes, just enough to thread their fingertips between each other. 

" _Ours_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time obi wan says "our padawan" 10 years are added to my life.
> 
> (is there another case of a co-parented padawan? idk and i don't wanna do the research rip)
> 
> ps look at [ this art](https://shatouto.tumblr.com/post/631597456748134400/our-padawan) by shatou thank


	6. hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise im still working on these, ive just never done anything on time ever
> 
> i dunno what this is. just. soft comfort.

Anakin wakes slowly. His body is as groggy as his mind, everything fuzzy and jumbled around the fact that he knows it must be some unholy hour of the night cycle. It's a struggle to get his eyes to open, and an even bigger struggle to keep them open, his eyelids heavy as durasteel. 

He's slow to figure out what woke him, and even then, he's not sure if it was the sound of crying, or the feeling of it at the edges of the Force, seeping into the bond he shares with–

"Obi-Wan?" he says, slurred and cracked with sleep. The shock of  _ Obi-Wan  _ and  _ crying  _ in the same thought gets him sitting up straight, and he can faintly see the outlines of Obi-Wan's body on the edge of the bed in the dimness. 

"Obi-Wan, what's wrong?" 

Obi-Wan doesn't respond, not at first, not until Anakin shifts close enough that he can rest a hand lightly on Obi-Wan's shoulder. 

Obi-Wan startles, shoulders jerking, and his hands fall into his lap when he turns his head to look at Anakin. 

"Oh," he says, "I didn't mean to wake you." 

Anakin stares at him. He's too tired for anger, or frustration, and instead just sighs, an echo of sadness. 

"I'm glad you did," Anakin tells him. "What's wrong?" 

Obi-Wan shakes his head. His fingers are fidgeting with the hem of the over-large sleep shirt he's wearing, and Anakin realizes it's one of Qui-Gon's old tunics. He sighs again, this time understanding. 

"It's–nothing," Obi-Wan says. "I'll be fine." 

And Anakin  _ knows _ –knows that Obi-Wan thinks his emotions are nothing to seek comfort for, and knows that he will be fine, but he also knows the pain of lost loved ones. He drapes himself across Obi-Wan's back, around his shoulders, letting his hands hand freely in front of Obi-Wan's chest. 

"Yeah," Anakin says, resting his chin on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I know. I still wanna help you, though." 

One of Obi-Wan's hands comes up from his lap to twist between Anakin's fingers, and Anakin holds him a little tighter. 

"It really is nothing," Obi-Wan tells him softly. "Nothing specific. Just–sadness, I suppose."

Anakin hums. This war has affected all of them; Obi-Wan, he knows, more than most, burdened further by the things they see, deep compassion lending a lifetime of sadness. 

"Can I do anything to help?" Anakin asks, shifting to hold Obi-Wan's hand more firmly. Obi-Wan leans back into him, the tension seeping out of his body, lets Anakin take his weight, support him where they sit. 

"Just this," he says, and Anakin watches his eyelashes fall as he closes his eyes, tilting his head back to tuck into Anakin's neck. He can feel Obi-Wan's heartbeat against his chest, slow and steady, and curls himself closer, holds him tighter. "Just this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway headcanon that obi wan has some of qui gon's old tunics and wears them sometimes
> 
> [new!] PLEASE WITNESS the [ amazing art](https://shatouto.tumblr.com/post/632159471999893504/let-me-take-care-of-you) by shatou ([tblr](http://shatouto.tumblr.com)/[ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatou/pseuds/shatou)) that's loosely based on this


	7. sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, a known hoe for sun metaphors:

For all that Anakin enjoys space–the ships and the stars and the endless new planets and cultures, access to a galaxy so much grander than he ever imagined–he loves sunlight more. Any sun, any number, near or far; it's one thing from a desert childhood he loves, and has never quite shaken. 

Frequent space travel means darkness. Space is so much darker than he thought it would be, dreaming as a boy of floating between stars. There seemed to be so many of them–how could it be dark? 

And yet, darkness surrounds him endlessly on the to-and-from of new assignments, new missions. 

It gets easier to deal with, as the travel times grow longer, as the planets become more distant, rainy,  _ cold _ . It's another thing on a long,  _ long  _ list of things this war has changed for him, and–it's easier to deal with than a great number of other things. 

Their latest mission has them headed planetside, a small envoy of clones along with him and Obi-Wan, scouting for life and resources. 

He's flying them in on a small transport cruiser, Obi-Wan standing beside him with an arm across the pilot seat, the two of them watching out the windscreen as Anakin guides them smoothly through the atmosphere. They break through a layer of big, white clouds, and then Anakin's bringing a hand up to the corner of his face, shielding his eyes from the sudden, bright sunlight. 

_ Sunlight.  _

He isn't sure how long it's been – passage of time is a tricky thing, in space, away from a sun, and in the middle of a war – but he knows it's been quite some time since he's seen  _ any _ sun. It catches him by surprise, the sunlight and the length of time away, holds his attention and urges him to the ground. 

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan asks. "Are you alright?" 

Anakin shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah," he says, refocusing on the landing. "Yeah, sorry, I'm fine." 

Obi-Wan hums, disbelieving, but doesn't push. 

Anakin's landing is perfect, practiced and smooth, and their small group is readying, headed for the doors. 

Anakin squints his eyes against the brightness when the bay door opens, a little sliver of glowing white that grows, leaving him with spots in his vision for a moment. He blinks quickly, catches the last of the men stepping off the ship, and looks to Obi-Wan, who's watching him, waiting. 

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks again, face open and concerned. Anakin looks back at the sun-drenched grass outside the ship. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, "it's just–been awhile since I've been somewhere with sunlight."

He doesn't see Obi-Wan nod, but he hears his understanding hum.

"Well, we'll be here for a few days," he says, and Anakin knows he's telling him to soak up all that he wants. "Come on." 

It takes only a single step off the ship and into the light before Anakin feels the heat of it seeping through his robes, past his skin and into his bones. He tilts his face towards the sky, relishing the steady, beating warmth, and – he has missed this, more than he imagined, perhaps more than he let himself realize. 

He wants to lay out in the grass, wants to sit in the sun until his skin is hot to the touch, until he shakes the coldness of space that's already beginning to thaw off his bones. 

He opens his eyes to see Obi-Wan is still standing beside him, watching him with a gentle smile. The sun is behind him, casting a glow around his hair and turning it fire orange, and not for the first time Anakin thinks Obi-Wan belongs in the sun, the only time when air around them shines as warmly and as brightly as Obi-Wan does, always. 

"You are beautiful in the sunlight," Obi-Wan tells him, honest and soft, an echo of Anakin's own thoughts turned onto him. Anakin knows his love must be showing plain and open on his face, and he smiles at Obi-Wan, a small, content thing that radiates through their bond. "You have always looked most at home in it." 

Anakin has always  _ felt  _ most at home in it; he has been a creature of light, will always be, feels like he was made for soaking in light and warmth. 

"You're not so bad yourself," he says, because he doesn't know how to tell Obi-Wan that he is like a sun, that he is the light Anakin basks in most often. 

Their bond is glowing, flooded with affection, and Anakin thinks he knows, anyway. 

"Come on," Anakin says, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand. "The faster we get set up, the faster we can do nothing but sunbathe." 

Obi-Wan laughs, lets himself be pulled along, and Anakin feels nothing but light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my favorite one so far. there's just something so delicious abt the light and dark of the force and desert sun child anakin and mm i just love dramatique sun metaphors


	8. warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look as someone who's from a hot place, i feel like it's believable that anakin's never seen a fireplace.
> 
> and yeah ok maybe the desert gets cold at night buT enter headcanon that the little rooms anakin and shmi shared only had an oven that shmi would run when it got too cold.
> 
> anyway, enjoy some soft boys

There's very few things Anakin likes about diplomatic missions; it's limited to things like the way Obi-Wan looks when he's leading a successful negotiation, the colorful outfits they sometimes get to wear, and the ornate, endless rooms they stay in when visiting palaces and resorts. 

This is such a mission where he gets all three, and he's been in a cheerful mood since they arrived. 

Their hosts reside in a sprawling estate, on a cliff at the edge of the planet's vast forest, overlooking the large ocean that covers what the trees don't. The rooms are simple and understated, but full of beautiful craftsmanship, every ceiling disappearing high above them, every opening providing the perfect view. There is always a breeze, perfectly cooling and smelling equally of salt and leaves, constantly shifting in the light curtains. 

They have changed out of their Jedi robes at the request of their hosts, instead wearing soft, flowing silk wraps and robes the same deep, rich colors as the emerald ocean and navy woods. The blues of Obi-Wan's wrap bring out his eyes in a way Anakin's never seen before, and he spends more time than he would admit to simply looking at him. 

The first day of negotiations wraps up perfectly, delegates parting for bed with friendly bows and clasps of arms. Anakin has hovered like a shadow all day, content to watch Obi-Wan instead, and he follows Obi-Wan out of the conference hall with a flutter of silk. 

It is dark outside, now, and the moons cast long, faint shadows on the ground as Anakin walks beside Obi-Wan down a covered, open hallway. 

"You were awfully quiet today," Obi-Wan says, looking sideways at Anakin for a moment. Anakin shrugs. 

"I had nothing to contribute," he says, because it's true, but then he adds, "Besides, it's more fun to watch you work." 

He loves the way a blush tints Obi-Wan's cheeks, and he's grinning when he bumps their shoulders together. 

The darkness has brought with it a deep chill, and as they reach their rooms, the silk Anakin's wearing has grown as cool as the wind that's beginning to blow stronger and stronger from the sea. 

Anakin shivers as he walks through the door, wrapping his arms around his chest. He watches Obi-Wan lock up, watches him move around the room, unpacking a few things from their bags in one of the two large bedrooms. Anakin is ready to crawl under the blankets and curl himself around Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan is particular about things when they're in new places, so Anakin keeps to himself, leans back against the wall and watches. 

It's some time later that Obi-Wan looks to him from the far side of the bed, a little smile on his face. 

"Are you going to light the fireplace?" he asks, nodding towards Anakin, who frowns.

"The what?" 

"Behind you," Obi-Wan says. Anakin pushes away from the wall and turns, for the first time noticing the large opening at the bottom of a column of stones built out from the main wall.

He's never seen anything like this before, like a large oven, though it's too low and not deep enough. 

He looks back at Obi-Wan. "What's this for?" he asks, and Obi-Wan gives him a funny look for a moment, before he's smiling again, a gentle thing, and coming around the bed to stand beside Anakin. 

"It's for heating," he says, moving to gather some of the chunks of wood stacked on the floor beside the stones. "You build a little fire in the opening, and let it burn during the night to keep away the chill." 

"Oh," Anakin says, feeling a little dumb. They've built night fires plenty of times, stuck in outdoor camps and caves and all sorts of other places. He just never figured there'd be a place for one inside. 

He watches as Obi-Wan finishes arranging the wood, and then sets a piece of kindling on fire, placing it in the middle of the stack before stepping back. 

"There," he says, and stays beside Anakin, watching as the flames from the kindling grow to surround the wood pieces, burn marks quickly turning the grey material deep black. 

It heats the room quickly, faster than Anakin had expected it would; it's hardly a moment before the room is full of fire warmth, flickering light, and the familiar crackle of burning wood. 

"Oh," Anakin says again, watching the shadows bounce around the walls, for the first time having something solid against which to watch the shapes as they shift and change in rapid formations. 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan calls, catching his attention, and Anakin turns to find him already under the blankets, sitting with his back against the headboard. "Come to bed." 

Anakin is quick to join him, forgetting momentarily about the fireplace, shedding his outer robes and slotting his body next to Obi-Wan's. 

Obi-Wan tugs him over until Anakin's head lands in his lap, his fingers carding through Anakin's hair. He's humming softly, a steady noise under the sounds of the wind outside and the wood in the fireplace, and Anakin floats lightly on the noises, soaking up the warmth of the fire and Obi-Wan's body around him, rest coming easy to meet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's probably words in here that aren't proper star wars but i have to draw the line somewhere in searching for them otherwise i would never get anything finished


	9. cold

"Oh, darling," Obi-Wan laughs, the sound startled out of him when he turns around. Anakin glares at him. 

"What?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest, although the motion is a little difficult with the number of layers he's wearing. 

"Nothing," Obi-Wan says, shaking his head. He chuckles softly, and even if he's laughing at Anakin, Anakin loves the sound of it just the same. "Are you warm enough?" he asks, fond and humored. 

Anakin looks down at himself, three thermal longsleeves hidden under a jacket and a parka. He's overheating a little, here in the ship, but he remembers how cold he was the last time they came to one of these ice rocks in the Outer Rim and he planned ahead for this one. 

"I should be," he says, fishing a pair of gloves out of his parka. "Will you be?" 

Obi-Wan hums. "Should be," he echos with a smile, even though he's only thrown a parka over his usual robes. Anakin scoffs to himself, but says nothing. Let Obi-Wan be the one complaining about the cold this time. 

"Let's go," Anakin says, hand hovering over Obi-Wan's back as he follows him out the door. "Ahsoka's probably already waiting." 

"I wonder what held us up," Obi-Wan says, sly, and Anakin loves him too much to be offended. Well, too offended. 

"Excuse me for wanting to be warm," he grumbles, mostly so he can hear Obi-Wan's soft laugh. 

Ahsoka laughs at him for a good minute and a half, and he can hear her snickering every time she sees him. 

  
  


It's much later, near sunset and they've been outside since morning, when Obi-Wan shivers, a full-body shake that bumps his shoulder into Anakin's where they're standing close together. Anakin looks at him, takes in the bright red of his nose and his cheeks, the bits of snow that cling to his beard. Obi-Wan catches his gaze, eyes brilliant blue against red skin and the whiteness around them, and he gives Anakin a little shrug, the closest Obi-Wan ever gets to sheepish. 

Anakin huffs, all for show, and shifts, turning sideways so he can tug Obi-Wan to his chest, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan's shoulders and rubbing his hands over his back. They're in the middle of a trade negotiation, but Anakin doesn't care. 

Obi-Wan's nose is a little ice cube when he presses it against Anakin's neck, and the chill in his fingers stings against the hot skin of Anakin's stomach when he wiggles his hands under all of Anakin's layers.

"You're lucky I love you," he says, his tone much too fond to come across as anything but affectionate, and the kiss he presses to Obi-Wan's cold forehead definitely ruins his image of exasperation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love these dumb lovesick boys


	10. blanket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure how we got from blanket to blanket fort to this but here we are

Obi-Wan comes back to find the central living quarter of their room nearly completely taken over by a sprawling canopy of sheets, everything in the room hidden underneath it. 

It's quiet–too quiet, for he can feel both Anakin and Ahsoka are here–and he furrows his brow for a moment, waiting, until young, bright laughter comes from somewhere near the kitchen, and his face relaxes into a fond smile at the sound of hushed voices. 

"Hello?" he calls, grinning when the voices fall quiet. "Anyone home?" 

There is a rustle of fabric and muffled laughter, and then Anakin appears, face poking through a small opening. 

"Snips," he says, glancing back into the tent, "it's Obi-Wan. Should we let him in?" 

He grins at Obi-Wan as they wait for Ahsoka's answer, a silly, affectionate thing, and Obi-Wan loves him so much. 

"Only if he knows the password," she says, her voice muted by the blankets. Anakin laughs softly. 

"Well then, you heard her," he says. He shifts, standing mostly up and revealing the entrance flap. "Password?" 

Obi-Wan shakes his head, huffing a laugh, and steps closer. His hands come to the side of Anakin's face, thumbs immediately stroking over his cheekbones. 

"I love you," he says, his tone soft and amused, and he brings their mouths together, kisses Anakin slow, guides their lips until Anakin turns to putty under his hands, a soft noise escaping his throat. 

"Well?" comes Ahsoka's voice, and Obi-Wan lets Anakin go, lets his hands fall, his face flushed and lips wonderfully red. 

"Uh–yeah," he calls to Ahsoka. "Yeah he's–he's got the password." 

Obi-Wan grins at him, watching as Anakin licks his lips. They stare at each other for a moment, and Obi-Wan sees Anakin sway forward just a little. 

"Oh, come on!" Ahsoka shouts a moment later. "You're kissing, aren't you?" 

She sounds so offended, and Obi-Wan can't help his laugh, bring a hand up to cover his mouth. 

"Making out is not the password!" 

A blush blooms high on Anakin's cheeks. Obi-Wan reaches out and pats at Anakin's cheek with a chuckle. 

"She gets it from you," he tells him quietly, then drops a quick kiss to his lips as he passes Anakin to get to the tent entrance, leaving Anakin sputtering outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is short n sweet but the moment felt complete so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	11. laughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loosely based on [ this art](https://shatouto.tumblr.com/post/632358841497026560/sparring-practice) that i love sm by shatou!! they're so soft i love them

Anakin will never tire of sparring with Obi-Wan; there's something about fighting with someone who shares your moves and knows your body as well as his own that makes their saber practice so exhilarating. 

They've shed their shirts, today, in the heat of the cargo bay, and Anakin's attempted to get his curls back and out of his face with the obi from Obi-Wan's robes tied into a makeshift headband, though it's only partially working. 

"You're getting sloppy," Obi-Wan calls from across their scrimmage space. Anakin grins at him, shaking his hair out as he readjusts his grip on his saber. 

"What are you gonna do about it?" he calls back, spinning his saber around his body, waiting for Obi-Wan to move first. 

He  _ is _ a bit sloppy today, distracted by so much freckled skin bared before him, by the flush that's spread from Obi-Wan's cheeks and down his neck, by the way his chest rises and falls quickly with his breath, by the way his hands look in the fingerless practice gloves he's wearing and the way Anakin wants to feel them on his skin, by the graceful and sure movements of Obi-Wan's body that always pull his attention when they spar. It hasn't been about winning in a long time; they know each other too well for that, anyway. 

Obi-Wan laughs, and then he's spinning into an offensive Anakin doesn't see very often, and really, he'd let his guard fall much too far to put up a defense. 

Anakin's back hits the floor hard, pushing the breath from his lungs. He huffs, blinking the spots from his eyes, and pushes himself up onto one elbow–only to suddenly have the tip of Obi-Wan's lightsaber inches from his nose. The hum of it is much louder, this close, and the bright, familiar blue fills most of his sight. 

"Give up, darling," Obi-Wan says, self-satisfied in a way he seldom lets himself sound. "I have you unarmed." 

It's unfair, really, how attractive he is when he's smug and happy. 

Anakin could give in now, but–but he sees the way Obi-Wan's relaxed, the way his arms hang loose, his stance far too open. 

He grins. "You underestimate my power," he says, then pushes himself up from the floor, using equally the element of surprise and a bit of fighting dirty to turn the tables. He sweeps his foot to take out Obi-Wan's legs as he launches at him. 

Obi-Wan is much more unbalanced than Anakin had anticipated, clutching at Anakin's back as they topple right over, shouting, "Anakin!"

Anakin's laughing before they even hit the ground, his arms wrapped around Obi-Wan's waist to hold on as they fall. Anakin lands solidly on Obi-Wan's chest, and Obi-Wan's breath leaves him in a soft  _ oof  _ that turns into a quiet chuckle. 

Anakin pushes himself up just enough to catch Obi-Wan's eyes, amusement clear in his pretty blue eyes. 

"I can't believe you did that," he says, laughing through the words, and it's been so  _ long _ since Anakin's heard him just laugh like this, open and careless. There's so much happiness in the Force around them that Anakin can't separate his own from Obi-Wan's. 

"You don't know all my tricks," Anakin says, raising an eyebrow. Obi-Wan snorts. 

"I most certainly do," he disagrees. "You've used that very one against me twice before." 

Anakin grins. "How come it worked, then?" 

"Because  _ you _ ," Obi-Wan says, settling one hand over Anakin's lower back, fingers spread wide, "are very distracting." 

Anakin wriggles up Obi-Wan's chest to look at him better. "Oh?" he prompts, and he must look much too excited. He runs one hand up Obi-Wan's chest. " _ I'm _ distracting?" 

Obi-Wan's still laughing at him, though it's hardly more than a stutter in his breathing, faint but fond. " _ Quite _ distracting, my dearest," he agrees. He brings one hand to Anakin's cheek, runs the backs of his fingers over the soft skin before he folds them over to tangle into Anakin's hair. 

"I love you," he says, quiet and earnest, and Anakin feels like he's glowing with it. 

He rests a steadying palm against Obi-Wan's chest, bends closer until they're nearly sharing breaths, feels Obi-Wan's hand tighten in his hair. "Love you, too," he murmurs, then sinks into a kiss, catching the aftertaste of laughter on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "not today, old man, I know all your tricks."  
> "not all my tricks, rookie!"  
>  _cars_ (2009)


	12. cuddle

Obi-Wan is already in bed and dressed for sleep by the time Anakin comes to him from the 'fresher. He stops by the edge of his side of the bed, shedding out of his robes and pulling on softer clothes instead. 

Obi-Wan looks up from his datapad. Anakin gives him a little sly grin and a wink when their eyes meet, and Obi-Wan shakes his head at him, although there's a small, fond look on his face. 

"How did it go?" he asks, closing down his pad reading and setting the device on his night table. Anakin hums. 

"Fine," he says, stepping into lounge pants. "We were out later than I wanted, but Ahsoka was having fun and doing well, so I didn't mind staying." 

"And how did  _ you _ do?" Obi-Wan asks, knowingly, and Anakin grins, self-satisfied. 

"Oh, you know," he says, false casual, as he climbs into the bed over Obi-Wan. "Just successfully defended my title as droid-repair champion." He drops a kiss to Obi-Wan's lips as he laughs, his grin getting in the way. 

"I'm so proud," Obi-Wan says, kissing Anakin again to try and hide his own smile. 

"You should be," Anakin agrees. "I'm very–skilled," he says, pausing as he wriggles his fingers under the edge of Obi-Wan's shirt, "with my hands." 

He meets Obi-Wan's gaze only to find him biting back a laugh. 

"Sorry," Obi-Wan says, covering his mouth with one hand. He can't hide the humor in his voice, though. "Sorry, go ahead, darling," he says, but Anakin huffs and collapses half on top of Obi-Wan, his head landing over Obi-Wan's heart. 

"I was  _ trying _ to be  _ sexy _ ," he complains. "You can't just  _ laugh _ in the middle of it, it ruins the vibe." 

Obi-Wan's mirth fades into fondness, and he reaches up to cup Anakin's face. "I'm sorry, dearest," he says, too earnest for Anakin's mostly fake complaints. He pushes Anakin's hair away from his face as he bends for a kiss, keeping it sweet and deep and slow. 

"Time for sleep now," Obi-Wan tells him, "you can be sexy in the morning." 

Anakin bites back a grin. "Promise?" 

"Promise," Obi-Wan agrees, chuckling. He turns out the light with a lift of his finger, and Anakin exhales, his exhaustion washing over him now in the dark. 

He shifts, bending his body around Obi-Wan's hip, moving his head onto his pillow and pressing his nose to Obi-Wan's shoulder. He threads an arm over Obi-Wan's waist, and Obi-Wan's fingers find his quickly, tangling loosely together. Obi-Wan curls towards Anakin, head turned so that his nose rests against Anakin's hairline, and his knees bump against Anakin's. 

It's like breathing, folding their bodies together like this. Anakin sinks his weight into their mattress as his eyelids grow heavy. 

"Goodnight, darling," Obi-Wan murmurs against his forehead, and Anakin smiles faintly in the dark. He wraps himself in Obi-Wan's signature, warm and fond and blissfully calm. 

Anakin sighs softly. "Goodnight, Obi-Wan." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yelling into the void: I LOVE SOFTNESSSSSSS


	13. rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~me, looking at the date and looking at the number of ficlets left the write: ahhhHHHHHHH~~
> 
> they're on vacation on naboo

The rain starts suddenly, in the middle of the afternoon while they're lying curled into each other in the big bed, a quick crescendo of drops against the stone roof, and Obi-Wan watches Anakin face as he registers the sound, watches the smile that blooms when he processes it. 

"It's  _ raining _ !" he says, hushed and excited in the space between them. Happiness turns his Force signature brilliant gold, and Obi-Wan can't help the small, fond smile that curves his lips in response. "Raining!" 

Obi-Wan chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over the skin of Anakin's hip where his hand rests tucked up under his shirt. 

"Obi-Wan, it's raining," Anakin repeats, so full of simple joy Obi-Wan sees so rarely these days. 

"I know, darling," Obi-Wan agrees, a little lost in the shine of Anakin's eyes, in how beautiful excitement looks on him. He hums, tilting his head a little. "What are you still doing here?" 

Anakin  _ grins _ and their bond floods with eagerness, like Anakin was waiting for Obi-Wan's permission to leave their warm little bubble. He rolls forward, nose bumping into Obi-Wan's cheekbone as he kisses him, quick and affectionate, and then he's rolling backwards off the bed in a movement that he manages to make graceful. 

Obi-Wan watches him, laughing quietly as Anakin stumbles out of his socks, throws his shirt over a chair at the side of the room. He turns back to Obi-Wan at the edge of the bed, hair wonderfully tousled, face so ernstly open and enthusiastic, and Obi-Wan is so endlessly in love with everything about him. 

"You coming?" he asks, pulling his hair into a low ponytail, and Obi-Wan's never been particularly good at denying him. 

"Alright," he agrees, regretting a little leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed, but it's worth it for the way Anakin's face manages to light up even more. 

"Yes," he says, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "come on, come on, come on." 

Obi-Wan leaves his shirt on the chair beside Anakin's, laughing as Anakin grabs his hand and pulls him along to the door. 

The courtyard outside their room is open and uncovered, and the rain sounds louder here, falling heavily against stone floors. The sky is dark without being oppressing, and the forest that starts along the edge of the ocean is a deep, dark green, rich with life. 

Anakin's hand slips out of his the moment they step out into the rain, as he runs out to the center of the courtyard, stepping heavy in the little puddles he finds and throwing his arms out as he spins around with his face towards the sky. 

Obi-Wan's heart is light in his chest, expanded enough to burst; Anakin's joy at rainfall had been immediate and remains eternal, and Obi-Wan is immensely, selfishly glad the war has not taken that from him. 

He had never been one for dancing in the rain, but Anakin refuses to miss an opportunity to stand under an open sky and catch raindrops on his tongue, and where Anakin goes, Obi-Wan follows. 

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin calls, turning a smile on Obi-Wan as bright as a sun. "Come  _ on _ !" 

The rain soaks his pants nearly immediately, and his hair is quickly starting to stick to his head, and as soon as he's close enough, Anakin grabs his hips, reeling him in and sliding his arms around Obi-Wan's waist, pressing his wet body to Obi-Wan's. 

"Hey," he says, ducking down to press their foreheads together, smiling so wide it feels like that's all Obi-Wan can see. 

"Hello, darling," Obi-Wan smiles, indulgent and enamored, and he slides his hands up over Anakin's shoulders, easily finding his hairtie and tugging it free, satisfied when Anakin's damp curls fall forward into a curtain around them. 

Anakin tilts his head back, shaking his hair out, and then he's spinning, pulling Obi-Wan along, hands tight, secure at his waist when Obi-Wan stumbles over Anakin's feet and his own.

Obi-Wan's feet leave the ground, suddenly, and he clutches as Anakin's arms as he's twirled around, shouting, "Anakin!" with a laugh that's startled out of him, loud and genuine. 

Anakin sets him back down close enough that their breaths mingle, bending down into Obi-Wan's space as he slots his feet between Obi-Wan's. 

"I love you," he says, automatic, mirthful, and Obi-Wan bumps their noses together. 

"I love you, too, darling," he says, and Anakin's lips taste like rain and laughter when he kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a sucker for an anakin that loves the rain, and im also a sucker for kisses that taste like happiness :')


	14. tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look ahsoka and anakin are two of the most physically affectionate people in the galaxy, constantly touching each other and cuddling and having absolutely no personal space, and u can pry that concept from my cold dead hands

Ahsoka sets two cups of tea on the living room table, sliding one in front of Obi-Wan and the other in front of Anakin; he's halfway to reaching for it when she climbs into his lap, settling herself into the space between his legs. She grabs the tea from the table and sits back against him, holding it between her hands. 

"Oh, sorry, did you want a cup?" she asks, and he can't even see her face but he knows the shit-eating grin that's definitely on her face, and this is his fault, really, she gets so much of this from him. He hears Obi-Wan snort quietly, catches the grin he tries to hide into his cup, and he rolls his eyes when Obi-Wan looks to him. 

"Nah, I'm fine," he says, and he slides his arms around Ahsoka's body to catch the tea cup from her hands, bringing it up to his lips and taking a long sip. "I can just share yours." 

Ahsoka's sputtering at him, half twisted where she's sitting to look at him, somewhere between wide-eyed and glaring, and Anakin takes some pride in knowing he can still take her by surprise. 

"I can't believe you," she says, mock-affronted, and Anakin lets her grab her tea back from him, laughing. She gives him another, brief look, and then she's turning back around, settling back in, taking a sip with a quiet  _ hmpf _ .

"Did I tell you what happened in group training today?" she asks the both of them, more of an opening than a real question, and she launches into her story at Obi-Wan's soft denial. 

Anakin exhales, content, sinking further into the sofa, and settles his chin in the dip between Ahsoka's lekku, feels her rest her weight more solidly against his chest, and he meets Obi-Wan's eyes over her head, his heart swelling at the look he finds there, something tender and proud. Their bond is bright and full between them, thrumming with love, and not for the first time Anakin is amazed that he has this, that he gets to have this. 

_ Love you _ , Anakin mouths at Obi-Wan, grins at the faint flush that blossoms across his cheeks. Obi-Wan's hand finds Anakin's where it rests across the back of the sofa cushions, and he threads their fingers together, such familiar weight, squeezing Anakin's hand briefly and gives him a soft, fond smile. 

_ Love you, too. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~hey google how do i describe the fuck me eyes u give ur partner when they're being so fucking good w ur kid~~


	15. kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this turned into smthn a little idk steamier than the lighthearted pilot thirst projection i had originally planned, but alas the boys do what they want

It's deep into his ship's night cycle, and Obi-Wan is alone in the hangar bay, he and the bridge's small gamma shift crew the only ones still awake. 

He stands inside the space shield with his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes, trying and failing to cool the thrumming of excitement under his skin. It's been three months since he's seen Anakin outside of a holo, and he's started to miss the warmth of his skin and the taste of his mouth. 

He comes out of his thoughts at the sound of metal rumbling, the bay doors opening slowly, and Obi-Wan watches the familiar yellow and gray starfighter sink quickly and skillfully into the hangar. 

The engines have hardly been shut off before Anakin is hopping out, Artoo whistling after him as he catches sight of Obi-Wan, moving swiftly, and even from this distance, Obi-Wan can see the darkness of his eyes. 

Obi-Wan watches him approach, his hair tousled and messy, sticking up a little from the headpiece he wears when he flies, and Obi-Wan wrings his hands together against the desire to run his fingers through those familiar, soft curls. It feels like his whole body is buzzing with the notion of touching Anakin, like having him back in Obi-Wan's sight has set all of his muscles on the edge of movement. 

Anakin's hands arrive before his body does, sliding around Obi-Wan's waist underneath the fabric of his robe, and Obi-Wan lets his arms unfold, curling his hands around Anakin's arms. 

"Hello, my darling," Obi-Wan says, hardly more than a murmur, as Anakin ducks down to press his nose into Obi-Wan's cheekbone, sliding against his skin. 

"Missed you," Anakin breathes, brushing against Obi-Wan's lips, his hands settling wide and warm on his back, pressing Obi-Wan closer. "Missed you so much," he says, the words spoken into Obi-Wan's mouth, and he pushes into a kiss, deep and a little desperate, sliding his tongue beside Obi-Wan's, stealing his breath. 

Obi-Wan slides a hand up into Anakin's hair, clenching at the back of his head, fingertips pressed against Anakin's scalp and fingers tangling his curls and catching in knots, but Anakin just kisses him harder, tilting his head to the side and down, pressing closer, his nose against Obi-Wan's cheek.

Obi-Wan has missed him so much his chest aches with it, lingering even now, even here with Anakin's heartbeat under his hands. He pulls Anakin down further, pushes himself up onto his toes, and opens his mouth wider, swallows the deep groan Anakin makes and kisses back harder, deeper, slower. 

They're both breathing heavy, chests pressed together, and Obi-Wan can feel Anakin's heartbeat against his ribs, can feel it through his own fingertips, can feel it through Anakin's palm where he's moved his hand to rest on Obi-Wan's cheek, can feel it everywhere, surrounding him entirely. He's drowning in Anakin, wrapped up in his body and flooded by his Force signature, everything else beyond him hazy and distant. 

He catches Anakin's eyes on him through half-lidded eyes, his hazy and hardly open, dark with desire, blue nearly disappeared into his pupils, and Obi-Wan groans softly in his throat, sliding his free hand up under the soft shirt Anakin's wearing. 

Anakin's thumb rubs under Obi-Wan's left eye as he slows, as the desperate edge fades away and leaves long, lingering kisses instead, a constant, slow push and pull of lips, again and again and again, and Obi-Wan feels devoured. 

He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a moan. "Anakin," he says, half lost in a kiss. "Anakin," he repeats, interrupted another kiss. "Darling."  _ Kiss _ . "Quarters."  _ Kiss _ . "Bed." 

Anakin stops halfway into the next kiss, dark eyes flicking between Obi-Wan's own. He traces the edges of Obi-Wan's lips, no doubt reddened and swollen, with the tips of his fingers. 

"Yeah," he agrees, though he makes no effort to move, attention still held rapt to Obi-Wan. "Yeah, quarters." 

Obi-Wan keeps his gaze as he steps away, letting his hands trail slowly down Anakin's arms until he catches his hands, and pulls him along to the turbolift, where Anakin will no doubt kiss him senseless against the wall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not super thrilled w the end of this one but ive been sitting on it for a week and it ain't going anywhere else
> 
> also shout out to yall few who have been so consistently commenting it means the world to me and im so so bad at answering comments but i see u & i love u tysm


	16. confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anakin, the most physically affectionate and touch starved bitch: what do u mean i can't see obi wan for several months

Obi-Wan materializes before him, on the data pad's video chat because Obi-Wan's always preferred to see him in color instead of in three-dimensional blue. Anakin beams, and his heart clenches at Obi-Wan's gentle smile. It feels like it's been half a lifetime since Anakin's seen him. 

"Hello, darling," he says, and  _ stars  _ Anakin missed his voice, soft and fond and perfect. 

"Hey," Anakin says, grin fading to something calmer, more intimate. He rakes his eyes around Obi-Wan's face, takes in his sleepy eyes and the slope of his shoulders, happily notes the bags under his eyes look normal. "How are you? Are you sleeping?" 

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Yes, I'm sleeping. Whatever you told Cody has him ushering me off to my quarters every twelve to fourteen hours or so." 

Anakin silently congratulates himself for that stroke of brilliance; he and Cody are the perfect team at getting Obi-Wan to take care of himself. 

"And I'm alright," Obi-Wan continues. "Negotiations are going agonizingly slow, unfortunately." He rubs at his forehead, an uncharacteristic gesture, and Anakin's arms twitch forward on the instinct to hold him. "We'll be here for another few weeks, I suspect," he admits, openly frustrated in a way Anakin so rarely sees, and he wishes so badly he was there, if only to be someone for Obi-Wan to lean on.

"But," he says, and Anakin watches him as he gathers himself back together again. "Enough about me, you're the one in a siege. How are you doing? Have you been hurt?" 

Anakin feels a sudden urge to cry, and he covers it by clearing his throat and blinking rapidly in a way he hopes is discreet. He's so  _ tired.  _

"I'm okay," he says, "we're all okay. The most injury we've seen is a sprained ankle, thank the Force." He runs his hand through his hair, much more frizzy and dry than it usually is, and he sighs, bone-deep and weary. "The men are getting tired of fighting in the mud and jungle," Anakin says, "and, to be honest, so am I." He looks at Obi-Wan on the screen, imagines the warm, sturdy comfort of his arms, and chokes a little on the tightness in his chest. 

"I miss you," Obi-Wan tells him, part of his hand blocking the side of his camera in the way it does when he rests his fingers over the video of Anakin. 

Anakin's gaze is suddenly blurry when he reaches out to trace the lines of Obi-Wan's face. "I miss you, too," he says, thick and wet, and he watches Obi-Wan's face fall into something hurt and sad. 

"Oh, my darling," he murmurs, and Anakin tucks a knuckle between his teeth, keeps his crying quiet. 

"Sorry," he says, and his voice is too weak for it to be anything more than a whisper. "Sorry, I just–" 

"Don't apologize," Obi-Wan says. "It's alright. I miss you so much, my darling." 

"Miss you," Anakin repeats, cracked in the middle, and he sinks into the pillows, curls his arm around his chest and wishes it were Obi-Wan instead. 

"I wish I was there to hold you," Obi-Wan tells him, and his voice is so soothing even as it hurts, equal parts better than nothing and not enough. 

"Yeah," Anakin agrees, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand. He tugs the sleeve of the stolen shirt he's wearing down to wrap his fingers in it, tucking his nose into the fabric that still smells like Obi-Wan. 

"I love you," Obi-Wan says with that small, quietly fond smile that Anakin loves. "I'll be with you soon, my dearest." 

"Love you too," Anakin says, "so much." He's loath to let Obi-Wan go, considers fighting against the weight of his eyelids to keep looking at him. "Can you–are you busy?" 

Obi-Wan shakes his head, and his video stutters as he settles further into his bed. "Not at all," he says, and Anakin exhales, so much of the tension he's been carrying falling away. 

"Could you just–talk? Talk to me, at me, I just…missed the sound of your voice." 

"Of course," Obi-Wan agrees readily, "anything. I can tell you all about the Gotals and how much you would hate it here. The weather is absolutely dreadful, always either horribly cold or awful humid, truly horrible, and I…" 

Anakin loses track of the words themselves as he focuses on the sound, lets Obi-Wan's steady, soothing timbre fill his senses, and he's falling asleep before he quite realizes it, the first peaceful night he's had since the 501st arrived here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got gotals out of a sw alien species generator so idk what im talking abt there


	17. dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun practice for describing movement!! 
> 
> think tangled (2010) and emma. (2020) for the vibes except with gomez and morticia level tension

Anakin settles into line across from Obi-Wan, looking down to his left and then his right to make sure he's standing in the proper spot, and then he turns back to Obi-Wan, grinning when their eyes meet. They don't get to dance nearly as often as Anakin would like; the rarity of the occasion, and the atmosphere created by lights strung around the courtyard, and the soft, flowing ceremonial clothes they're wearing that swish when they walk and bring out the red in Obi-Wan's hair, and the low thrum of contentment and excitement in the Force around them combine into an eagerness that has Anakin bouncing on the balls of his feet. He's been practicing these steps for days, and his whole body seems tense with readiness to jump into the movements. 

The musicians at the end of the room pick up their instruments and tap out a beat, and then they're playing, an upbeat drum rhythm swirling around the room, and the dance begins. 

Anakin's line moves forward with a shuffle pattern, stopping just before the opposite line. They pause, Obi-Wan's eyes like brands in Anakin, and he's already breathing hard if only from the look Obi-Wan gives him, watchful and approving and wanting all in one. 

Anakin and his line step back on the next beat, though Obi-Wan holds his attention like gravity. Anakin finds himself very glad he's practiced this routine so well. 

Obi-Wan's line moves with Anakin's this time, stopping where they meet in the middle to circle around each other. Anakin's hands twitch with the desire to reach for Obi-Wan, to touch him when he's this close; he keeps his hands to himself, but doesn't stop his gaze from lingering on Obi-Wan's lips, catches the way Obi-Wan's eyes darken at the attention. 

Their lines step apart again, sides swapped, pausing for a moment before they're meeting in the middle again, stepping in diagonals. Anakin bows to the dancers on Obi-Wan's left and then his right, his eyes drawn back to Obi-Wan over and over the whole time.

They break into fours, he and Obi-Wan stepping into a square with the dancers on their left, Obi-Wan across from him. They hold their left hands up in the space between, making an axis point they circle slowly around. Obi-Wan's gaze is heavy, impossible to look away from, and Anakin holds it even as they switch arms and change directions. There's something about this space–the music and the lights, the sweet, thick flow of the Force, this dance that denies touch, allows only lingering looks–that fosters a sort of bubble around them, air thick with tension, desire, anticipation. 

They fall back into two lines again only to step together into one, Obi-Wan fitting into the space between Anakin and the dancer to his right, facing the opposite direction, keeping his attention on Anakin with a turn of his head. They're close enough that their shoulders touch, the backs of their hands brushing–the first point of contact they've had for what feels like hours, and Anakin can't help the shiver that runs down his spine. 

They step slowly around each other, shoulders remaining pressed together, and Anakin's nearly vibrating with the build-up by the time their lines separate again. The dance ends with bows from both sides, and the room erupts in applause when the music stops. 

Anakin doesn't move, eyes still locked with Obi-Wan's, chest heaving despite the relative calmness of the dance, his muscles tingling with residual energy, and the rest of the courtyard has fallen away; it's just him and Obi-Wan and the tension that hangs between them, suspense building–until Obi-Wan takes a step forward, and then another, and then there's a hand on Anakin's waist, a hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and Anakin sighs when warm, familiar lips press against his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just realized there's no dialogue in this one oop oh well i wanted to get funky w it anyway


	18. breath(e)

It's not often Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fight; on the battlefield, he's busy with his own fights, with having Anakin's back and those of his men, and on the sparring mat, he's usually too close to observe, too focused on matching movements. 

But here, he can watch all he wants, standing at the edge of the sparring mat as Anakin practices with Quin. 

"Careful, Skywalker," Quin taunts, spinning his saber around his hip like Anakin so often does. "Don't wear yourself out." 

Anakin laughs, shifting his saber from one hand to the other and back again, moving around the mat in a slow circle. Obi-Wan has always viewed sparring between the two of them as good practice for Anakin; his own fighting style is highly complimentary to Anakin's, where Quin's is nearly the same, and therefore forces Anakin out of his comfort zone. 

"I wouldn't worry about me," Anakin retorts, and a sudden grin curls up the corners of his mouth, cocky and mischievous. "My stamina is rather impressive, as I'm sure Obi-Wan would agree." 

Obi-Wan feels his cheeks immediately flush a bright red, and he squashes down the urge to hide his face in his hands when Quin throws his head back with a deep laugh. 

Anakin takes that moment to move into the offensive, coming at Quin with a series of quick, powerful movements, and they, thankfully, turn their focus back to their sparring match. 

Which leaves Obi-Wan free to stare after Anakin. 

It's been a long time since Anakin's really needed guidance on his fighting; he mastered all of the styles a long time ago, now, and has moved into crafting his own style out of the stances. He attacks much more than he defends, fitting for his personality, and his confidence in his abilities carries him through every fight. 

Anakin's body truly is a work of physical magnificence. Obi-Wan watches the muscles in his arms as they move and contract with every attack and parry, follows the shifting lines of his bare back when he holds off a particularly energetic offense from Quin. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin and dampens his curls, some of them sticking to his face. 

He's utterly, unfairly beautiful, and Obi-Wan's a little glad he doesn't usually have the time to watch Anakin in battle. 

Anakin must feel Obi-Wan's eyes on him; he catches Obi-Wan's gaze and gives him a look between a grin and a smirk, awfully self-assured, and then winks before spinning into a defense against Quin's rushing attack, shifting to use his momentum against him. 

The blatant display of talent and power shouldn't be as attractive as Obi-Wan finds it to be, but the way his body moves and the way he looks when he knows he's good sends a little thrill down Obi-Wan's spine. 

"Alright, alright!" Quin calls, deactivating his saber and laughing breathlessly. "I yield!" 

Anakin twirls his saber in his hands once, twice, before the blade disappears and he clips the hilt to his belt. He's grinning, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and Obi-Wan has to consciously shift his gaze to somewhere else. 

Anakin holds his arm out to Quin, who clasps his hand for a moment around Anakin's arm just below his elbow. 

"Told you," Anakin says as they come towards Obi-Wan. 

"Yeah, yeah." Quin shakes his head and hops down from the mat. "Don't let it get to your head, kid." 

Anakin sits on the edge of the mat, settles his feet in a wide stance on the floor. "Oh, never," he agrees, and laughs when Quin snaps his hair-tie at him. 

"He's something, all right," Quin says to Obi-Wan, unstrapping the fingerless gloves he uses. He gives Obi-Wan a sly look. "Your boy's got some skill." 

Obi-Wan, not for the first time, is thankful for how much his beard covers his cheeks. Anakin snorts, and Obi-Wan glares briefly at him. 

"He is certainly something." He pauses, turning back to Quin. "Thank you," he adds, and Quin scoffs. 

"Please," he says, "I'd rather get my ass kicked by Skywalker then fill out report paperwork."

"I told you," Anakin interjects, but Obi-Wan ignores him. 

"Still on for drinks tomorrow?" Quin asks, shifting his bag onto his shoulder, and facing the both of them. 

"Of course," Obi-Wan agrees. "I'll meet you there after the Council." 

"Bring him, if you like," Quin says, jerking his head towards Anakin. He holds his hand out, and Obi-Wan clasps his arm like Anakin had before. "Catch you later, kids," he says, and waves over his shoulder on the way out. "Don't forget this is a public space!" 

Anakin laughs, loud and bright, and Obi-Wan rubs at his forehead. 

"Hey," Anakin calls, once Quin has disappeared out the door. When Obi-Wan looks to him, he's smiling softly, though his eyes are dark. He leans forward enough to catch the sleeve of Obi-Wan's robe, and uses his grip to tug Obi-Wan to him, until he's close enough that he's standing between Anakin's knees, and Anakin has to tilt his head up a bit to catch his eye. His hands slide around Obi-Wan's waist under the robe. "How'd I do?" 

Obi-Wan huffs, though he settles his hands on Anakin's shoulders, fiddles with the tips of his damp curls. "You know the answer to that," Obi-Wan tells him, and Anakin's grin agrees for him. "But you did well. I'm impressed." 

"Oh, impressed?" Anakin repeats, and he's tugging Obi-Wan closer, moving his hands up his back. "That's all?" 

He's got his fingers on the back of Obi-Wan's neck, and he pulls him down into a kiss, pushing into his mouth, hot breath like steam on Obi-Wan's cheek. 

"That's all you'll get here," Obi-Wan says, pushing at Anakin's shoulders when he rocks forward again. 

"So there  _ is _ more!" Anakin laughs, and really, Obi-Wan's life would be so much easier if he found Anakin any less attractive than he does. "Well then," he continues, pushing off the edge of the mat and standing close enough to Obi-Wan that their chests brush every time he breathes. "Take me to where I can hear about it." 

"You are incorrigible," Obi-Wan sighs. His hands fall to Anakin's waist, and he squeezes once before letting go and stepping back. "Get your things together, then," he says. "What are you waiting for?" 

Anakin laughs again, a light and happy sound, and he leans into another kiss, a quick press of lips. "I love you," he says, tone bright with fondness and mirth. He swings his bag over his shoulder and grabs at Obi-Wan's hand, sliding their fingers together. "Lead the way, then, master."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory sparring thirst moment ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	19. care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope everyone in the se us is staying safe in the hurricane!! we're out of power and cell service here rip but ig now i have nothing else to do but finish these up

Obi-Wan follows a step behind Anakin as they walk slowly to the bridge, Anakin's feet dragging and shoulders sagging. He looks exhausted, worn out from weeks of fighting long and hard, in the rain and the heat. Obi-Wan wishes he had been here sooner, if only to help ease the weight on Anakin's shoulders, to ensure he takes time to sleep. 

"Almost there, dearest," Obi-Wan murmurs, resting a hand on Anakin's shoulder, and he gives Obi-Wan a weary nod in response. After they report to Yularen, Anakin is free to sleep, and Obi-Wan is free to care for him.  _ Almost there.  _

Yularen is waiting for them on the bridge, standing a ways back from the central command area. He gives them a wan smile when come to a stop beside him. 

"Welcome aboard, General Kenobi," he greets, and Obi-Wan gives him a small bow. "General Skywalker, excellent work. This is a well-needed win for the Republic." 

Anakin hums. "Thanks," he says, almost a murmur, his blinks growing heavier. He sways a little on his feet, stopping when he bumps into Obi-Wan's shoulder, leaving his weight resting against Obi-Wan's side. 

Obi-Wan slides an arm around Anakin's waist, keeps him steady and mostly upright, and he grimaces a little in response to Yularen's tight smile. 

"Any briefing the Senate might want can wait until later," he says, to Obi-Wan's immense gratitude. He catches Yularen's eye, dips his head in thanks. "Your top priority now is to catch up on the sleep you've been missing." 

Anakin sags at the drop of responsibility, some of the tension easing from his shoulders, and his weight settles heavier against Obi-Wan. 

"Thank you," Anakin tells him, and gives him something like a bow without really moving. His hand finds Obi-Wan's arm and his fingers curl around Obi-Wan's wrist, the light tugging a familiar gesture from Anakin's younger years. 

Yularen makes to turn his attention back to the bridge, the two of them dismissed, though he pauses halfway. "Take care of him, General Kenobi," he says, gaze meeting Obi-Wan's in a mutual expression of care and protection. Obi-Wan shifts, collecting Anakin in his arms, and inclines his head towards Yularen. 

"I always do." 

It's a slow process, getting Anakin off the bridge and down the halls to his quarters, and he doesn't make it easy–his steps are slow, his eyes drooping, his limbs heavy and useless. 

Obi-Wan sighs when they finally arrive at the door, and he shifts Anakin so he's sagged across Obi-Wan's chest, face tucked into his neck and arms dangling over Obi-Wan's shoulders so he can key in the code on the door. 

It opens with a quiet hiss, and Obi-Wan shuffles them forward until they're inside, until they're close enough to the bed that the backs of Anakin's legs are nearly hitting the edge of it. 

He gets his hands under Anakin's arms and pushes him away and down, Anakin's eyes opening when he folds onto the bed. 

He blinks up at Obi-Wan, blearily, and he looks like he's about to fall asleep where he sits. Obi-Wan reaches for him, settling a palm against Anakin's cheek, lips pulling into something like a soft smile when Anakin turns to nose at Obi-Wan's skin. 

"Come on," Obi-Wan tells him quietly, his other hand already working at the clasps of Anakin's robes. "The sooner we get these off, the sooner you can sleep." 

Anakin hums, and he doesn't do much to help Obi-Wan get his robes off, but he's pliable under Obi-Wan's hands, and it's not long later that he's sitting barefoot on the edge of the bed in just his boxers. Obi-Wan retrieves a sleep shirt from the top of the dresser on the near wall, and he threads Anakin's arms through the sleeves, eases it over his head, smooths the fabric down along his chest. 

"There," Obi-Wan says softly, smoothing his hands over Anakin's hair. "Get under the covers, darling," he instructs, and watches Anakin scoot himself backwards on the bed, Anakin's own eyes hooded and dark where they watch Obi-Wan in return. 

Obi-Wan takes off his boots, setting them beside Anakin's, and folds his robes as he sheds them, pulling on a pair of soft trousers instead. 

Anakin has shifted to the far side of the bed, and he holds the blankets out for Obi-Wan as he climbs in, settling into the warmth of the covers. Anakin rolls into Obi-Wan's side immediately, pressing along the length of his body, and Obi-Wan threads an arm underneath him to wrap around his waist, hand settling on Anakin's back. 

"Thanks," Anakin murmurs, head pillowed on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Missed you," he says, "glad you're here."

"Hush, darling," Obi-Wan says, pressing a kiss to Anakin's forehead. "Sleep." 

Anakin hums in agreement, and his body grows heavier against Obi-Wan's. 

"Love you," he mumbles, already half asleep, and Obi-Wan smiles into his hair, rubbing his thumb over Anakin's spine. 

"Love you, too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was Exhausted when i wrote this so sorry if it makes no sense lol we do be projecting


	20. cooking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof we're past 24hrs w no power or cell service at my house & it could still be another day until we get it back. pour one out for ya girl

The sunrise is nearly over, Anakin thinks, based on the way the light has lost the early morning softness and the way it's no longer shining into Obi-Wan's face. They've been laying here for a while, Anakin resting in the space between Obi-Wan's legs with his chin propped on Obi-Wan's diaphragm, Obi-Wan's hand carding gently, repetitively through Anakin's hair. 

So far they've done nothing but watch each other as the city wakes up around them and share slow, sleepy kisses; Anakin's favorite way to start a day. 

He stomach rumbles, then, earning a quiet exhale of laughter from Obi-Wan, who's hand stills at the back of Anakin's head. 

"Breakfast?" he asks. 

"Breakfast," Anakin agrees. He doesn't particularly want to get up from the warm blankets and comfortable perch on Obi-Wan's chest, but now he's thinking about waffles, and his stomach rumbles again. 

He pushes himself up onto his hands, sways forward to give Obi-Wan one more lingering kiss, both of their soft smiles in the way, and then he's rolling off the mattress and picking up his sleep shirt from the floor, and he fabric cool as it settles on his chest. 

He looks back to Obi-Wan, who's made no effort to move–instead, he's stretched himself out with a quiet groan, his joints popping quietly. He catches Anakin watching him, and gives him a humored look. 

"Oh, did you want my help?" Obi-Wan asks, knowingly sly. Anakin kicks up Obi-Wan's shirt from the floor into his hands and throws it at Obi-Wan. 

"Yes!" he says, making it sound obvious, and Obi-Wan's laughing into the shirt now resting on his face. He grabs at the fabric to pull it off of himself, and his eyes are fond when he looks at Anakin, the corners crinkled in laughter. 

"Alright, alright," he concedes, "I'll be there in a moment." 

Anakin huffs, but he's smiling, so in love with the way Obi-Wan looks when he's relaxed and happy. 

"Don't take too long," Anakin calls, and heads to the kitchen. 

The waffles he makes are an old, simple recipe from his mom; they didn't have them often, but he loved the times they could, loved helping his mother gather and prep the ingredients, loved the way the kitchen started to smell like waffles as the first one cooked, loved the process of getting the cook time right so they came out golden brown every time. 

It's nearly muscle memory as he puts everything out onto the counter and begins to measure the dry ingredients, the amounts pulled from memory. 

Obi-Wan comes into the room as he combines the flour, baking powder, and salt, resting a hand on Anakin's back as he stands at the counter beside Anakin. His body is still sleep-warm, radiating heat against Anakin's left. 

Anakin sets the bowl of dry ingredients aside and turns, sliding his hands over Obi-Wan's hips, tucking his fingertips just under the hem of his sleep pants, stopping when his palms settle in the dip of his lower back. He tugs Obi-Wan closer until they're pressed together, Obi-Wan's hands wide on Anakin's chest. 

"Good morning," Anakin says, bumping his nose against Obi-Wan's. 

"Hm, good morning indeed," Obi-Wan agrees, and he slides one hand from Anakin's chest up into his hair to pull him down into a kiss, slow and sweet. 

Anakin follows after him when he pulls away, steals a quick, soft kiss, and then he's squeezing a little at Obi-Wan's ass before he lets him go, laughing at the look Obi-Wan gives him. 

"Breakfast first," he says, stepping back towards his bowl. The waffle iron beeps, temperature reached, and Anakin grabs a second bowl, passing it to Obi-Wan. 

"Two eggs and a cup and a half of milk in here, please," he directs, and when Obi-Wan passes it back, he adds sugar, vanilla, and butter, beating it together until it's smooth. 

The batter is ready quickly after that, dry ingredients mixed into wet, and Anakin opens the waffle maker, turns to Obi-Wan.

"Would you like to do the honors?" he asks, passing Obi-Wan the spoon when he moves to Anakin's right. 

He pours in too much batter but it doesn't matter, the excess oozing out the sides when Anakin closes the iron and flips it over. 

The little timer starts its countdown, and Anakin's hands find their way back to Obi-Wan's waist; warm, content, sleep-soft Obi-Wan has always been irresistible. 

"You are a horrible tease," Obi-Wan tells him, even as he sinks into Anakin's chest. His fingers end up at the back of Anakin's head, twisting in and out of Anakin's curls. 

"It's not teasing if I'm gonna follow through," Anakin says, a little smirk on his face. Obi-Wan hums, mock doubtful, and Anakin's grin gets in the way of the kiss Obi-Wan pulls him into. 

"Ugh, at least keep it out of the kitchen," Ahsoka complains, coming into the room behind them. She switches on the caf machine and hops up onto the counter across from them. "I have to eat here." 

Anakin glances at her, quirks his lips at Obi-Wan, and then he pulls Obi-Wan into another kiss, overly dramatic, both of their laughs in the way. 

"Oh, come  _ on,  _ Skyguy!" Ahsoka whines. Anakin's outright laughing when he lets Obi-Wan go, pulling the first waffle out of the maker when it beeps. 

"Good morning to you, too, Snips," he chuckles. He plates the waffle, passing it to Ahsoka as Obi-Wan refills the maker. He pats the side of her leg once she takes the plate. "You shouldn't sit on the counter." 

Ahsoka shrugs, already working on the waffle. "Master Kenobi lets me," she says, and when Anakin looks to Obi-Wan with a raised eyebrow, Obi-Wan simply shrugs, looking sheepish. 

"I can't believe you," Anakin says, too much amusement in his tone for it to be anything but fond, and he lunges for Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan's laugh sudden and loud, echoing against the tile. He gets his arms around Obi-Wan, holds him tight as he laughs, struggling without really trying. 

"You guys are the worst," Ahsoka says, though there's a smile on her face, and Anakin can feel her happiness across their bond just as strongly as he can feel Obi-Wan's. 

"Love you, too, Snips." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway wondering how many times ive used the words "soft" and "happy" and "laugh" in this series


	21. shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still have 10 to go and no service or power at my house 😫 will she make it
> 
> loosely inspired by a scene in my kanera fic [astronomy in reverse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267322)

Anakin sighs, a happy sound, as the shuttle's door slides shut, and he looks at Obi-Wan with a little, goofy smile on his face. 

"Darling, you are absolutely filthy," Obi-Wan tells him, looking over Anakin, his robes now lighter with the mud caked on them, his boots leaving flakes of dirt behind, his skin and his hair covered in streaks of mud and grime. 

Anakin wipes at his forehead, though that only makes it worse. "Yeah," he agrees, looking down at his clothes. "Well." 

Obi-Wan bites back a chuckle as Anakin inspects himself, turning his hands over and twisting to see the backs of his legs. 

"Wait a minute," he says, when he's finished, "how come you're not covered in mud, too?" 

Obi-Wan holds up a finger and then turns slowly around. He hadn't slipped and skidded through the mud as Anakin had, but he did manage to fall flat on his back in it, and he can feel where the layers of mud have solidified on his clothes and in his hair. 

Anakin snorts, and there's laughter in the lines of his face when Obi-Wan turns back around. 

"You're rather filthy, yourself," Anakin says, and Obi-Wan huffs. 

"There's only one thing for it, I suppose," he says, and then he's ushering Anakin out of the cargo hold and down the hall to the quarters they're sharing. 

Anakin looks at him, eyebrow raised. "Why, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he says, a hand on his chest, "are you suggesting we shower  _ together _ ?" 

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. "Not if you keep that up," he says, which earns him a laugh, loud and bright. 

He stops at the doorway to the 'fresher, gives Anakin a look until he raises his hands in surrender. 

"Alright, alright," he agrees. "I just want to wash my hair." 

Obi-Wan scoffs as he follows Anakin into the 'fresher. "You need to wash more than just your hair, darling." 

Anakin leans back out from where he's turned the water. "Good thing I have you here to help me, then." 

The steam from the water shower quickly fills the room, and Obi-Wan carefully undresses, tries to keep the worst of the mud from falling off his robes and into the floor. 

Anakin is less careful, but he's also more covered, and Obi-Wan chuckles to himself at the lines between mud-covered and clean skin revealed by the removal of Anakin's robes. 

He steps into the shower first, sighs softly as the hot water relaxes his muscles and washes away the dirty feeling that's been clinging to him since they landed. He's got his face turned up into the spray when he feels Anakin step in behind him, the air going cool momentarily when the door opens. 

He turns, pushing his wet hair up out of his face, and meets Anakin's gaze, his blue eyes dark, magnetic. Anakin reaches for him, stepping forward and settling his palms on the outsides of Obi-Wan's ribs, fingers cool against Obi-Wan's water-warmed skin. 

Obi-Wan shifts, circling them around so Anakin's under the water, and he watches as Anakin moves his hands up to wipe over his hair, his gaze lingering on the lines in Anakin's neck, the jut of his clavicle. Water runs down the front of his body, catching in the dips and curves of his muscles, and Obi-Wan doesn't resist the urge to brush his fingers up Anakin's breastbone, down his shoulder. 

Anakin tilts his head down slowly, eyes lidded when he meets Obi-Wan's gaze, his eyelashes dark and clumped with the water, eyes piercingly blue. He steps forward out of the stream, effectively crowding Obi-Wan against the far wall, and he only looks away to grab the washcloth, loading it with soap and holding it under the warm water for a moment. 

"Can I?" he asks, hardly louder than the water, and slides the cloth up Obi-Wan's arm when he nods. He takes his time, scrubbing slowly at the grime clinging to Obi-Wan's skin, urging him around with a gentle push against his shoulder. 

Obi-Wan's muscle are lax and loose by the time Anakin finishes, turning him back around with a hand curled over his shoulder. They hover like that, for a moment, and then Anakin's leaning down, lips cool and damp, gentle pressure against Obi-Wan's, kissing him slow. Obi-Wan tilts his head up, lets himself be kissed like this, desire simmering low enough that there's no rush, just tender passion. 

"Your turn," Obi-Wan murmurs, taking the cloth of Anakin and turning them around, rinsing off under the water before scrubbing at the mud caked to Anakin's skin. It comes away easily, water swirling at their feet quickly running clear again. 

"Here," Obi-Wan says, pushing down at Anakin's shoulders a little, until he bends and tilts his head back enough that Obi-Wan can get to his hair. His curls are knotted and dirty, and Obi-Wan rubs shampoo carefully into the strands, gently works out the bigger knots as he goes. 

Anakin makes a soft, appreciative sound, and he's pliant and slow when Obi-Wan moves him under the water to wash away the soap. 

"Bed now?" Anakin asks, rinsing the last of the shampoo from his hair, and Obi-Wan chuckles softly. The water is starting to cool, anyway. 

"Yeah," he agrees, "bed sounds good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probs coulda kept going but it's late and it's "shower" and i still have so many to go oof


	22. stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the local cell tower is finally back online (🙏) so at least i can use the internet now without having to drive to the grocery store

"Alright," Obi-Wan sighs, and he starts disentangling himself from Anakin's limbs. "I need to get ready to go." 

"Noooo," Anakin calls, rolling over after Obi-Wan and wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan's waist, holding him hostage on the edge of the bed. "Stay," he whines, drawing out the vowels. He flops his head down on the mattress beside Obi-Wan's thigh, peering up at him with one eye. 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan laughs quietly, right hand ending up in Anakin's hair. "I have to be there in half an hour." 

Anakin tightens his arms around Obi-Wan's waist. "Noooooo," he repeats, "just stay a little longer." 

Obi-Wan looks down at him, at his sun-bleached curls, the one bright blue eye Obi-Wan can see–he is as ridiculous as he is beautiful, and Obi-Wan loves him immeasurably. 

Obi-Wan sighs, more like a huff, and Anakin curls himself around Obi-Wan's back. 

"Now you're trapped," he says, "you can't leave." 

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Oh, really?" 

"Yep," Anakin confirms, "totally trapped." 

Obi-Wan hums thoughtfully. He threads one arm around Anakin's shoulders and another around the backs of his knees, and then he stands, holding Anakin around his hips. Anakin shouts, startled, and he clings tighter to Obi-Wan as he laughs loudly. 

A moment later and Obi-Wan drops them both back onto the bed, letting himself fall backwards into Anakin's torso. 

"I can't believe you just did that," Anakin says, still laughing. Obi-Wan tilts his head back into the dip in Anakin's side between his ribs and his hip and grins up at him. 

"Not trapped," Obi-Wan tells him, and his head rises and falls with Anakin's soft laughter. 

"Alright, alright," Anakin concedes. He rolls onto his back, one arm coming to lay across Obi-Wan's chest, other hand threading through Obi-Wan's hair. Obi-Wan's ear is resting against his diaphragm, and he can hear Anakin's heart beating. 

"Worth a shot, though," Anakin sighs, fond, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze. His face is so open, so full of gentle affection, and, really, Obi-Wan has done much more drastic things in the name of love than this.

"Fine," he says, sighing dramatically, and sinking all of his weight into Anakin's stomach. "You win, I'll stay." 

Anakin props himself up on one elbow. "Wait, really?" 

"Yes, really," Obi-Wan says, offering him a little smile, and then Anakin's surging forward, flipping them over so he's laying across Obi-Wan's body. 

"I can't believe that worked," he says, laughing to himself, and Obi-Wan's hands find the sides of his face, thumbs running over his cheekbones, brushing the hair out of his eyes. 

"Don't get used to it," Obi-Wan warns, but it's rather hollow and they both know it. 

"Sure," Anakin grins, always so full of it, and he catches Obi-Wan's mouth in a sweet kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof yall this one was a struggle. this is concept attempt #4; the others were either too much or too angsty and i just wasn't feeling them


	23. chores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> concept of force wielder hanging out with their greasemonkey mechanic pilot boyfriend is borrowed from my finnpoe fic [my life, my love, my only](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080016)
> 
> also–october is over and so is this prompt series! i got pretty close to the 31 🤷♀️  
> thanks sm to everyone who came along the ride, i hope yall enjoyed reading these as much as i enjoyed writing them :')
> 
> (ps: got my power back today, a halloween miracle. happy halloween yall!!)

Obi-Wan finds Anakin in the hangar. 

Or, rather, he hears Artoo chattering away in the far corner, rolling around outside Anakin's starfighter, and assumes Anakin is somewhere up inside the ship. 

He's right, of course. 

"Hello, Artoo," he greets the droid, patting the top of his dome when he beeps happily. "Where's Anakin?" 

Artoo whistles and rolls forward until he gets to a step-stool, stopping underneath the ship where a panel is missing. Obi-Wan looks up, catches Anakin's feet sticking out from the machinery. 

Artoo beeps loudly, a string of noise Obi-Wan has no hope of understanding. There's a faint crash from somewhere inside the ship, and then a moment later Anakin's face pops out, hanging upside down from the opening and grinning. 

"Oh, hey, Obi-Wan," he says. He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing the grease already on his forehead even more, and leaving more marks on his hand. He's covered in grease, really, even some of his curls dark and clumped together. The light-colored shirt he's wearing probably was white, once, but is now covered in stains of all colors, black fingerprint smears and drip spots abound. 

"Hello, darling," Obi-Wan says, chuckling softly. "What are you doing?" 

Anakin waves his hand. "Oh, just some regular maintenance." He looks back into the ship for a moment. "And I'm also trying to add some more capabilities for Artoo, he's always fussing at me about the things he can't control while we're flying." 

Artoo beeps from the tool table against the wall, a disgruntled, agreeing sound. Anakin huffs a laugh, and his eyes are bright and content when he turns back to Obi-Wan. 

"What's up?" 

"Nothing in particular," Obi-Wan tells him. "Just wondering where you got off to this time. I should've known." 

Anakin grins again. He's dirty, sweaty, and greasy, hanging out of his ship looking so wonderfully happy; it's worth the risk when Obi-Wan steps forward, catches Anakin's jaw in his fingers and holds him still for a gentle kiss. 

Anakin's got a goofy, find expression on his face when Obi-Wan lets him go. "What was that for?"

"I can't just kiss you whenever I like?" Obi-Wan asks, taking a moment to inspect his hands. There's grease spots on the tips of three of his fingers, and he reaches up to wipe them off on Anakin's shirt. "You'll make yourself light-headed hanging out like that." 

Anakin grips the edge of the opening, swinging his body down and brushing his hands over his coveralls when he lands. "I knew you had a thing for mechanics," Anakin tells him. He slides his goggles out of his hair and tosses them on the little wheeled workbench just to the left. 

"I do not have a thing for mechanics." 

"You can deny it but I know it's true," Anakin says, throwing a grin over his shoulder as he deposits his tools onto a mat on the floor. "You're totally into this look." He pauses, waits until he turns back to Obi-Wan. "I can tell when you're lying." 

"I might be into the look," Obi-Wan starts, interrupted by Anakin's victorious, "I knew it!" 

Obi-Wan gives him a look, and starts over. "I _might_ be into the look, _but_ –" he says, "it's not a mechanic thing." He debates for half a moment before grabbing at Anakin's waist, deciding he doesn't care too much about ending up covered in grease, too. "It's just a you thing."

Anakin's cheeks flush a pretty red, and he's grinning, eyes crinkled and bright. "You're such a sap," he says, fondness practically dripping from the words. 

"Your sap," Obi-Wan agrees, the words murmured against Anakin's lips as he comes down for a kiss, and then another and another. 

"Sure it's not a mechanic thing, even a little bit?" Anakin asks, smirk so infuriatingly attractive, thumbs rubbing over Obi-Wan's arms where his hands have wrapped around him. Obi-Wan tilts his head. 

"Maybe a little tiny bit," he concedes, and before Anakin can celebrate being right, Obi-Wan continues. "But it's definitely a pilot thing." 

Anakin chokes, eyes going wide, and Obi-Wan struggles to keep his grin down, leaning in for another kiss to delay Anakin's reaction. 

"Oh, no," Anakin says, using his grip on Obi-Wan's arms to hold him far enough that he can meet Obi-Wan's eyes. "Wait a minute, we're unpacking that. A _pilot_ thing!" 

Obi-Wan shrugs. He's sure he's blushing, but he hardly ever gets to Anakin shocked like this, and it's so equally amusing and endearing. 

"That's not just a me thing, is it?" Anakin asks, and when Obi-Wan doesn't answer, he throws his hands up in the air. "Obi-Wan!" 

Obi-Wan smoothes his hands down Anakin's chest. 

"You're also a pilot, darling," Obi-Wan reminds him, biting back a chuckle.

"Not the point!" Anakin exclaims. "How did I not know you were into pilots," he says, mostly to himself, and Obi-Wan watches his little crisis, endlessly humored. 

"Oh, I get it," Anakin says, calming down, coming back to slide his arms around Obi-Wan's waist. "You only like me for my flying skills. Honestly, a good choice." He tilts his head a little, that stupid, sexy self-satisfied smirk curling at his lips. "I _am_ the best pilot in the galaxy." 

Obi-Wan can't help his chuckle. He tests his hands over Anakin's shoulders. 

"You're certainly something," he agrees, Anakin's _hey!_ muffled against his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love these dumb soft boys sm


End file.
